


Mistletoe and Crocuses

by NiteWrighter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Genji, First Meetings, Fluff, Illidan Genji, Illidan Genji is an Unseelie Fae, Sugarplum Mercy, background tracily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiteWrighter/pseuds/NiteWrighter
Summary: Two Fae, Seelie and an Unseelie, meet in the mortal world on a winter's eve and decide to investigate the merriment in a local human village.
Relationships: Emily/Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Mistletoe and Crocuses

Genji knew he had only a few hours before his absence was noticed.

Winter drew the veil thin between his world and the world of mortals. The long nights, the silence in the cold, the biggest difference between his world and this one was the brightness. His was a dark and glittering world, barely illuminated by glow worms and crystals reflecting off glassy pocked obsidian surfaces. Cave darkness and his fellow unseelie were quick to trick you in that world, easy to make you think there were shapes shifting in the darkness or breath on the back of your neck. But here, everything was sharp and bright and still. The snow swallowed up sound so easily, but with his pointed ears Genji could hear whatever creatures foolish enough to be out in this cold and dark from a long ways away. He felt more than exposed out of the cover of darkness, still, curiosity and feeling no real threat from the mortals of this plane, he continued on through the still wood, squinting in the silvery glare of the moonlight and noticing that the stars seemed just as sharp as the cold.

As he walked with his head angled toward the sky, crunch of snow beneath his cloven-hoofed foot was interrupted by a soft, smooth texture that instantly caught his attention. He broke his sight down from the sky to see that he had trod on a purple crocus. He tilted his head at it. Too early for such blooms. Not with the stars in this position in the sky. His eyes trailed from the crushed crocus to another crocus, standing up firm and upright in the snow as if to say, _‘Well clearly you don’t know everything about this world.’_ And only a few feet from that, another crocus, and another, and another. It was a trail of unseasonable blooms, as clear and sharp as everything else in the wood. He followed them, careful not to crush any, through a meandering path through the trees. 

He saw glittering spirals of frost on the black bark of pines, and refrozen droplets of snowmelt glittering among the twigs and needles overhead. He continued on, following the path of purple, white, and yellow flowers before he reached the treeline. The wood was on a hill, and a pasture stretched below it beneath a moon-blue tinted blanket of snow, completely unblemished by footfall or sleigh tracks, and just past that blanket of snow, a small collection of cottages, their windows lit up yellow-gold and puffs of gray-white smoke trailing up from their chimneys. He could pick up music trailing up from the little village, and he tilted his head, wondering why mortals would expend so many resources so wastefully in such a barren time of year.

“I hope you’re not planning on going down there looking like _that_ ,” a voice spoke behind him and he whirled around, a sword of green crystal immediately forming in his hand as he held it at the ready. He found his sword pointed at the dip in the collarbone of a fae clad in that same purple of the crocus path he had followed, her green hair swept back from her face. She was beautiful, more achingly beautiful than any crystals beneath the earth, and that beauty only sent the briefest shake through his sword arm before he thought better on it. Seelie always glamoured themselves to look more human than they really were, her apparent preference for standing on her tiptoes and her wrapping of her feet in silken shoes probably belied more beastlike features. Still, she didn’t bother hiding the points of her ears, nor the emerald-and-seafoam green of her hair. Genji’s eyes narrowed.

“Good Neighbor,” he said, not lowering his sword.

“Misfortunate One,” she said in turn with a coy tilt of her head.

Genji bristled a little and he kept up a glare at the Seelie. “What business have you in the mortal realm?” he demanded.

“My own,” she said, still smiling. Seelie smiled too much, “I imagine it’s the same for you.”

One corner of Genji’s mouth twisted upward.

“Cavorting in the human world with no orders from our respective kings…” said the Seelie with a sigh and a shake of her head, “A veritable pair of delinquents are we.”

“I am not _cavorting_ ,” said Genji, glancing off, “And we are nothing alike, Seelie.”

“Really?” she said, stepping around him until she too was standing at the tree line, looking down the hill on the little village, “I don’t think we would be here if we weren’t curious about the same things…” she sighed again, staring at the village, “You hear the music, don’t you? They’re dancing down there–You have dancing back in your court, don’t you?”

The unseelie court had thrashing, violent war dances, that frequently turned to fights themselves. “Of a sort,” said Genji.

“But not like _they_ dance–Their lives are so short yet they’re all so _complicated._ They look at the darkest, coldest nights in winter and decide to bring as much light and warmth into them as possible. It’s so… defiant! And do you smell that?” she sniffed the air, “Sweets! Cakes! Cheese! I’ve had them before! They would leave them for me in the woods for safe passage during the warmer months–but it smells like they have _mountains_ of them down there!” she seemed caught up in her own waxing poetic on the ways of mortals and Genji lowered his sword slightly.

“You… like mortals?” said Genji, arching an eyebrow.

“So long as they respect me and my kin, of course,” she replied with hand wave, but she didn’t take her eyes off the village, “Wouldn’t you like to see it?”

“I… should probably make a point of finding out what mortals are like for myself,” he said, letting his sword dematerialize and folding his arms, “Obviously I can’t trust _your_ word on such things.”

“Obviously,” she said with a grin.

“And if you cause trouble with the mortals, that may bring the mortals’ wrath on Seelie and Unseelie court alike. Someone ought to keep an eye on you,” said Genji.

“Oh I intend to have eyes on me,” she said, throwing a glamour over herself as easily as you or I might put on a coat. She didn’t look too different from her fae form. The wings and pointed ears were gone, of course, she had shifted her eyes from lilac to blue, and running her fingers through her hair, she changed it from jewel green to straw yellow, and her lovely dress of white and purple crocus petals was now a drab and faded green. Still, her beauty would definitely outdo any mortals down there. “Which brings us back to my first point,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “You can’t go down amongst the mortals looking like that.” she circled around him, examining, him, “You’d make a handsome soldier…Or a goat,” she snickered, rapping a knuckle against his horns. He flinched away from her and she took a step back, still grinning.

He huffed and cast a glamour over himself, disguising his horns away and giving himself fair skin and drab clothes like her and the fine, high boots of a soldier. He blinked several times to give himself dark brown eyes. He kept his hair, though, thick and black and flowing over his shoulders–if he had to take the form of the mortal, he would at least not deny himself _that_.

“Very handsome indeed!” said the seelie, clapping her hands.

“You are also…” Genji swallowed, “A fine human.”

“That’s a real compliment, coming from you. While we are among the mortals, you may call me Mercy.”

“You would give me your name?” said Genji.

“Why not?” said Mercy, “I have another.”

“…Sparrow,” said Genji, after a beat, “You may call me Sparrow.”

“That’s hardly a human-sounding name,” said Mercy. She suddenly snapped her fingers, “ _Mr._ Sparrow then! Well that should work! Come along!” she said, hooking her arm in his, “Let’s go see what they’re celebrating!” 

They sprinted lightly down the hill over the snow, racing for the village, leaving no footprints but crocuses in their wake. 

There was hardly anyone on the roads of the village, but given how cold it was, that was to be expected. Genji glanced over at the Seelie woman walking with her arm hooked in his. Her folk loved play-acting, it was said. He wondered what roles she was spinning for the two of them in her head just now. His idea of a mortal disguise was straightforward: Foreign soldier on his way home. He glanced over at her. She could be a camp follower–he glanced down at her hands–too lovely for scullery work. She’d have to lie for herself because he certainly couldn’t do it for her.

“I usually take the form of an old woman when I’m down here,” said Mercy as they walked through the village. Breath had fogged up the interior of nearly every window, but all the windows were lit up and moving with figures inside, “They practically never look at you when you’re an old woman. Suppose they don’t like being reminded of their mortality.”

“You come to the mortal world often?” asked Genji.

“Usually a moon or so after the solstice,” said Mercy with a shrug, Genji glanced behind her to see the line of crocuses in her wake. They would disappear with tonight’s snowfall, probably, and they would be back in their respective realms before sunrise, anyway, before any of the villagers could trail them to her. He was about to ask her just where she planned to go in the village but then he noticed the music she had mentioned earlier was getting louder. There was fiddle, traverso, and frame drum and spoons and singing, voices with pitch warped by drink happily slumping into each other’s harmony. It wasn’t like the music of the Unseelie, a drumming din accompanied by throaty singing you felt in your very bones. Genji saw that Mercy was humming along with it and was bobbing a bit in her steps to it.

He turned his head for the source of the music and saw they were headed toward a large tavern. It was not so large as the old wood-and earthwork church which the little village spiraled out from, but still considerably large compared to the houses and shops of the village, enough to hold a good number of the village, anyway. They stopped outside the tavern and Mercy moved to push the door open when Genji caught her arm. “Are you sure about this?”

“Aren’t you curious?” she said before pushing the door open.

The warmth of a hearth and bodies and the smell of beer felt like an invisible veil drawn between themselves and the interior of the tavern that they passed through into a room thick with breath. The benches and tables had been shoved up against the walls to accommodate for a dance floor, and a handful of young men and women reeled and laughed to the music playing.

“Merry Saint Stephen’s Day to ‘ee!” the short, stocky tavern maid called to them as she pushed by with a tray laden with mugs of ale, “Lena! Get ‘em a pint! They must be chilled to the bone!”

A young woman with short-cropped dark hair in yellow trousers, a loose white shirt, and brown waistcoat pushed past several revelers to meet them. “Hullo there!” she said, brushing her hands down her shirt, “You’re a new pair of faces!”

“We’re just travelers—” Mercy started.

“Passing through,” said Genji.

“He’s a soldier—” said Mercy gesturing at Genji.

“She’s–yes–” Genji mumbled, glancing off.

Lena just snorted. “Don’t get many travelers ‘ere in the Ox Town,” she said with a smile, “But if you’ve got coin, we’ve got drink.”

“…coin?” Genji repeated but Mercy quickly presented a gold coin.

“Coin!” she said, presenting a coin, “Yes! We have that!”

Lena took it and her eyes practically bulged out of her head, “God’s wounds! A crown?! A bloody crown!?” she said, taking the coin and glancing up at them.

“No, it’s a coin,” said Mercy, a bit confused, “What you asked for.”

“I know it’s what I–” Lena laughed, “You’re a funny sort, eh?”

“Is… that enough?” said Mercy as Lena bit the coin without breaking eye contact with Mercy and then examined the coin once more.

“’Is that enough,’ she says!” said Lena, slapping Mercy on the shoulder, “Enough for a bottle of our finest brandy and more, it is!” she said before hurrying off, giggling and flipping the coin.

“Happy Saint Sivan’s day,” said Mercy after her with a smile.

Genji elbowed her, “Stephen,” he said, under his breath.

“No, Mercy, I told you to call me Mercy tonight,” said Mercy.

“No I mean they said it was Saint St–Never mind. I thought your folk didn’t like metal,” Genji muttered under his breath to Mercy.

“We don’t,” said Mercy, “The coin will be gone when we are back in our respective realms. I’ll make it up to them, of course. But everyone’s full of drink tonight. Things are easily lost.”

Lena hurried back to them with an ornate bottle and two crystal glasses.

“Come, come! Sit!” she said gesturing at them. Lena lead them over to a table where a single man was slumped over drunk and unconscious and unceremoniously pushed him off the bench with her foot, maintaining impressive balance as she did so, before whipping out a rag and hastily wiping down the table, “Only the finest for our guests!” she said as Mercy and Genji took their seats, “If you’ve need of anything, you need only call me,” she said, setting the tray down on the table and filling both their glasses before hurrying off to the other patrons.

“How will you make it up to them?” said Genji, furrowing his brow as Mercy tentatively sniffed the brandy.

“I don’t know, I’ll figure it out,” said Mercy, sipping from her glass, “Mortals always want _something_.”

Genji just furrowed his brow and sipped some of the brandy, blinking with surprise at its sweetness. “And what do you want?” he said, looking over at her.

“I think we always want what they have don’t we?” said Mercy resting her chin in her hand as she looked at the humans reeling on the makeshift dance floor, “Our days are dreams and nightmares and they all blend together because time means so little to us.”

He tilted his head at her. When she first spoke her voice was pitched as it had been since they first ran into each other at the top of the hill–like everything was a joke only she knew the punchline to, but an odd wistfulness bled into her voice now.

He followed her eyes over to the dancers who were now moving into two lines facing each other as the music picked up. He downed the last of his brandy, rose from his seat, and extended a hand to her. She tilted her head at him and he gave a nod with his head over in the direction of the dancers. 

“You are full of surprises, Mr. Sparrow,” she said, rising from the table as well.

Genji didn’t really remember that they had decided to give him the false name of ‘Sparrow’ for a few seconds before going, “Well I warn you, I don’t know any mortal dances.”

“We can figure it out,” said Mercy, as they took their places in the lines.

“You’re in the wrong spot, Miss,” said a man next to Mercy.

“Mm?” said Mercy. 

“You’re in the man’s line. He should be in your spot and you in his,” said the man, gesturing at Genji.

“Oh!” said Mercy, “Yes, that is a thing, here, isn’t it?”

“Why does that matter?” said Genji.

“Now now, Mr. Sparrow, we must not begrudge them their customs,” said Mercy, switching places with Genji. 

“Yes. Customs,” said Genji, taking his place. The music kicked up and both of them glanced down the line to see couples extending hands toward each other. The couples started one by one going down between the line, palms against each other, parting at the end, then going back to their spots, all the time in step with the music. Fairly straightforward.

“What do you want?” said Mercy, as they headed down the line together.

“What do you mean?” said Genji.

“You asked what _I_ want–” said Mercy before the dance forced them to part and go back to their places at the end of the line. They were facing each other back at the end of the line, “So what do you want?”

Genji glanced over at the other couples hooking arms and turning in circles now now and he and Mercy did the same. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I think a part of me only came here because it was forbidden to me.”

Mercy hung her head so close to his he could feel her breath on his jawline, “Is that not the nature of the Unseelie?”

He chuckled, “Indeed,” he said, as they both glanced at the couples now breaking away from each other and trading off joining hands with others in the dance like a chain forming and un-forming itself, the couples forming semi-figure-eights in their trades. Mercy and Genji broke apart to join in this as well, Mercy smiled at the flushed cheeks and the eyes alit with drink and merriment, and Genji glanced over to see her and smiled as well before finding himself in a wheel of locked elbows with Mercy opposite him in the circle.

The circle actually proved itself more complicated than the partner trading, switching directions, and having to figure out which foot to use so he wouldn’t trod or trip on whoever was next to him. Mercy grinned at him and for a moment he thought he saw a bit of violet flash in her eyes. Was is his own Unseelie eyes seeing through her glamour for a brief moment? Or had the brandy affected her? Or was it a ploy on her end, drawing him in further? He didn’t have time to ponder any of this as he spotted a familiar head of short-cropped dark hair. He craned his neck as the circle turned to see Lena tucked in a corner, chatting with a striking red-headed scullion. Eventually the circle broke apart into the figure-eight partner trading again, until Genji found himself, almost miraculously, opposite Mercy in two lines once more. As the couples brought their palms together and started the pattern over from the beginning, Genji whispered to Mercy, “Look.”

“What?” said Mercy, as they started moving between the two lines once more.

He nodded with his head in the direction of Lena. “You said mortals always want something, right?” 

Mercy followed the nod of his head with her eyes and saw Lena and the scullion chatting. Mercy watched as the scullion laughed at a joke Lena had told but then was shooed back off towards the kitchens by the tavernmaid. Both observed the smile fading from Lena’s face as the scullion left before she rubbed the back of her neck, huffed, and resumed her duties.

Mercy gave that wicked, teasing grin to Genji as the song ended. He bowed to her, she, in turn, glanced at the ladies curtsying and curtsied to him, and both made their way back to the table. Genji poured another two glasses of brandy for them as Mercy clasped her hands beneath the table, a small light shining through the gaps of her thin fingers.

“Light on your feet you two,” said Lena with a forced smile, coming back to them, “Has that dancing whetted your appetites? Shall I fetch you some blood sausage? Some rarebit, perhaps?”

“Oh we’re not–” Mercy started but Genji nudged her foot with his own and nodded towards the kitchens where the redheaded scullion was sure to be.

“Yes. We would like food. The second thing you said. We want that, ” said Mercy, smiling brightly at Lena.

“The rarebit?”

“Yes,” said Mercy, “Yes, I know what that is and I want it.”

Lena snickered again. “There you go, saying funny things again–” she said, turning around.

“Oh and Lena–?” said Mercy.

“Mm?” Lena glanced over.

“You’ve been so good to us this evening, I thought you should have this,” she brought her hands above the table and opened them to reveal a yellow crocus in her hands.

Lena gawked, “How came you by that?!” she said, “They’re nowhere near in season yet!”

“I just found it outside earlier this evening. I suppose it is a miracle of St. Sufjan’s day,” said Mercy.

“Stephen,” said Genji.

“St. Stephen’s day,” said Mercy.

Lena laughed a little, “Well if you were lucky enough to find it, perhaps you ought to keep it. I’m no fine and dainty lady what to be receivin’ flowers.”

“Then perhaps you _know_ a fine and dainty lady to be receiving flowers,” said Mercy, holding the crocus up to her a little insistently.

A look of realization crossed Lena’s face and she took the crocus.

“Thank you, ma’am, I’ll be back with your rarebit in a bit,” said Lena, heading off to the kitchens. 

“…You don’t know what rarebit is,” said Genji as soon as Lena fell out of earshot.

“Do you?!” said Mercy.

Genji just snickered and shook his head. They both sipped their brandy in a contented silence, watching the humans go about their business in the tavern. It was getting late, and a cold draft blew in as several humans exited the tavern to go home.

“How long do you think we have?” Mercy said quietly.

“Not too much longer, I’m afraid,” said Genji.

“A shame,” said Mercy, leaning back in her seat, “For all my folk warned me of the Unseelie, you seem a decent sort.”

“You as well,” said Genji, resting his chin in his hand, “For a Seelie. I suppose.”

He glanced back at the kitchen, “What makes you so sure your spell will work?”

“It’s not a spell, really,” said Mercy, fidgeting with her hair, green already starting to seep into its tips. Genji wondered if his glamour was starting to wear off as well, “It’s more like… a push. The coin I made, well that was out of thin air. Little more than an illusion that will fade as soon as I leave. Technically crocuses and daffodils and dew and berries are the only things in this world I can make that _stay_ … but even those don’t stay long…” she glanced back at the kitchen, “I’m not spinning anything out of thin air for them, merely encouraging the growth of something already there.”

Genji smiled. “You’re a romantic.”

“You wouldn’t be here if _you_ weren’t,” said Mercy.

“I suppose not,” said Genji.

“What do you do?” said Mercy.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I work with making crocuses and berries sprout even and especially if there’s still patches of snow on the ground… what do _you_ do?” said Mercy.

“Have you ever seen a horse frighten for no reason?” said Genji, “Or have you heard a floorboard creak in your house that shouldn’t be creaking without a foot on it? Or have you felt something hanging in the dark, just outside your window?”

Mercy’s eyes brightened. “You?” she said.

“Me,” said Genji, sipping his brandy, “Someone’s got to keep mortals on their toes.”

“And horses,” said Mercy with a smile.

Genji chuckled and a contented silence passed between them.

“Why do you think our kingdoms are separated so to begin with?” Mercy said quietly, “I feel our jobs are of equal importance–they add an equal richness to the mortal world, even if the mortals arbitrarily assign them as ‘good’ and ‘bad…”’

“Two sides of a coin?” said Genji, shrugging, “Your folk are as capable of cruelty as mine are of kindness.”

A clearly rumpled Lena half stumbled to their table, her hair mussed and her shirt and waistcoat disheveled as she set a plate of cheese melted on bread down on their table. “There you are, rarebit! Now uh, I have some urgent… business in the kitchen to attend to.” She stumbled back off and Genji gave an impressed look to Mercy, but Mercy seemed to be busy marveling at the plate.

“Rarebit is cheese on bread?” she said, tilting her head.

“You did mention a fondness for cheese–” said Genji.

“I _love_ cheese–” said Mercy, picking up the slice of bread.

“Mercy–” Genji said her name in warning.

“What?” said Mercy, one eye violet and a full lock of her hair green now as she held the bread, but she noticed one of Genji’s ears already growing purple and pointed, “Oh…” she said a bit sadly, “We need to go.”

“I’m afraid so,” said Genji.

“I don’t want to be rude–” said Mercy, getting up.

“…I don’t think our absence will be noticed,” said Genji, nodding with his head off toward a corner of the tavern.

Mercy followed the nod of his head with her eyes and saw Lena and the redheaded scullion beneath a bough of holly, a sprig of loop-shaped leaves and white berries secured by a red ribbon hanging over them. 

“Mistletoe?” Mercy said, tilting her head.

Lena was tucking a lock of the scullion’s hair back, before the scullion suddenly closed the distance between them and kissed her.

“I suppose the meaning has advanced significantly from ‘no swords may cross here’ then…” said Mercy, watching as Lena took the scullion up in a tight embrace.

“Come on,” said Genji, taking her arm as she stuffed the rarebit in her mouth and followed him out the door out into the snow. They didn’t take their glamours off until they were well out of the village, and the glamours blew off with the next hard wind.

“I missed these,” said Mercy, giving another knock of her knuckles to Genji’s horns.

Genji snorted, “And I am glad to see wings back on you,” he said, motioning to her glassy wings.

She was still gnawing on the rarebit as they ascended the hill.

“You sure you don’t want some?” she held it out to him.

“It’s all yours. I doubt I would have had the courage to go down there without you,” said Genji.

“I shall miss you, Mr. Sparrow,” said Mercy, as they reached the treeline once more.

“Perhaps we may meet again someday,” said Genji, “And you may call me Genji, then.”

“Genji?” said Mercy, taking the last bite of her rarebit.

“Yes, Genji,” said Genji.

“Handsome name,” said Mercy, her mouth half-full, before swallowing hard, “I think I’ll keep it.”

“What?!” Genji said in alarm.

“Kidding!” said Mercy. She put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m kidding. It suits you much better.”

Genji huffed in relief. “So we must part ways then?” he said, looking back at the village.

“If we ever want a chance of coming back here again,” said Mercy, “Of ever seeing each other again. If you can’t get away with it the first time…”

Genji nodded a bit sadly, but then glanced over to see Mercy clasping her hands together, a green light shining between her thin fingers.

“What are you–” Genji started, but Mercy unclasped her hands to reveal a sprig of a plant with loop-shaped leaves and white berries.

“Mistletoe?” said Genji.

“I figured if we are to say goodbye, we should do so in the custom of the mortals, shouldn’t we?” said Mercy, holding the mistletoe over her head.

Genji huffed and smiled. “I can’t think of any reason not to,” he said, tucking a lock of her green hair back.

“There are many reasons not to,” said Mercy, as his clawed hands traced along her neck, carefully.

“Then I am being willfully ignorant of them,” said Genji, leaning in and kissing her.

Her hand holding the mistletoe lowered to drape itself around his shoulder and bring herself in tighter to him as she leaned into the kiss. As defiant in its own right as bringing as much light into the dead of winter could be. When the first lights of dawn tinged the snow pink, both had disappeared, no evidence of their presence in the mortal world save a few glasses worth of fine brandy missing and meandering trails of crocuses.


End file.
